(“So, what do you fear, then?” Yixing asks him, taking a long drag out of those outrageously expensive cigarettes. Extending it in front of him, he offers it to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol waves a hand, politely declining. Nose crinkling at the smell of smoke, he stares at the starless night sky, the summer wind warm on his skin. “I told you, nothing.” 

“Impossible. Everyone fears something.” 

“Huh. Well, that’s not me.” Chanyeol smiles to the ground ruefully. “Truthfully, if I died today or tomorrow, I don’t think I would hold any regrets.” 

Yixing stares at him solemnly, expression unreadable as always; wallowing in a calm before the storm. “I pity you, Park,” he says not unkindly, but his words seem to loom over Chanyeol like shadows that never disappear; bearing weight onto his back, washing him over with an overwhelming sense of melancholia. “That just means that you have nothing to lose.”) 

He wonders why he’s thinking about that now. He wonders how Yixing is doing. No news ever since Chanyeol had escorted him safely back to China. Is he dead or alive? Clients don’t often leave such an impression on Chanyeol like Yixing did. They’d usually keep their distance, only engaging in conversations with the agents if it were necessary. The same could not be said about Yixing. He had taken such an interest in Chanyeol that he did not stop asking incessant questions until Chanyeol’s previously iron resolve crumbled. It became a daily routine; good morning, he would say when dawn breaks. How are you today? This seemingly trivial cycle of Yixing asking questions and Chanyeol reluctantly replying them dipped into waters Chanyeol hadn’t explored before: opening himself up to someone. Yixing wasn’t stupid; he was one of the few who managed to monopolise a trade in a country as big as China; whatever it was, Chanyeol can’t recall. He was a smart man, self-aware at the very least, though he liked to appear quite the opposite at times. He asked questions the way he solved problems — treading carefully, never making a single mistake. Prodding softly but never judging, lulling Chanyeol into a comfortable state where even pouring out his innermost thoughts seemed fine. 

Somehow, he was never malicious. He was different. Yixing wasn’t a bad man, and Chanyeol has seen enough people to differentiate the good from the bad. Or at least, that’s what he’d like to tell himself. He always felt that Yixing just wanted to know. And he’s never had that, not really. Someone wanting to know him just because they do. Validation Chanyeol never knew he wanted, never knew he was chasing. 

Maybe he was just lonely. 

Chanyeol ensures The Slammer is locked before making his way to the pantry. It’s the first place he knows Sehun will be. It is a small kitchen area fitted snugly behind the lobby, and sure enough, Sehun stands in the middle of it, chewing his fingernails nervously as he walks in circles. Odd, Chanyeol thinks. Usually when he finds Sehun here, he’d be stuffing himself with fifty-cent sushi, whatever the occasion — even dire ones. Chanyeol recalls the day where Jongdae was sent to Rome for a particularly tricky assassination which ended up with him almost getting decapitated and on the run from extremely furious local police. It was a long mission, and almost got them in serious trouble. But Sehun remained so unfazed that it was almost annoying; with Jongdae screaming in the earpiece that he was going to die while he snuck off to the pantry for a sushi break. Chanyeol wonders why Sehun seems so nervous all of a sudden. 

“Hyung,” Sehun says, relieved as he catches Chanyeol walk in. “You’re here.” 

“You wanted to tell me something in the elevator?” Chanyeol says. “Can’t you tell it to all of us?” 

Sehun puffs his cheeks, fidgeting. “No, I can’t. Its not that I don’t trust them, but I felt that you're the only one who'll believe me.” 

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “What is it?” 

“Its something I saw,” Sehun says quietly, looking at the ground. “A few years ago. It concerns the NIS. And Byun Baekhyun. Maybe.” 

Chanyeol’s heart skips a beat. “What did you see.” He asks, voice lowering, but he forces it to remain steady. 

“Look, this might not even be the truth,” Sehun stammers. “Before I joined EXO, I was working as a tech support for the Seoul Headquarters. Suddenly, they called me for this top-secret project they were working on. All the elite agents were there, y’know? Kwon Bo-ah, Kim Minseok… I couldn’t even form a word around them.” 

“Hey, that’s Agent BoA and Xiumin to you,” Chanyeol chides. 

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Like they’ll hear me here, hyung. I really don’t see why I have to address them like that.” 

“Clearly you were scared of them.” 

Sehun looks up to face Chanyeol. “Dude, Xiumin scares the hell out of people for breakfast. Plus, I was just a newbie then. Why would they call me, right? But apparently they heard I had a way with computers and they wanted me to decrypt… something.” 

“And what was it?” Chanyeol asks, frowning. 

Sehun wrings his hands, troubled. “I don’t know. They told me it would be a felony to let anyone know of it back then. It was so uniquely encrypted, a wrong move and I would’ve set something off. The file was so tightly secured and locked that I took hours and hours trying to find a solution. They just gave it to me and told me to figure it out.” 

“Did you?” 

A silence fills the room, nearly suffocating Chanyeol with its tension. Sehun seems hesitant to open his mouth, eyes constantly flickering to the entrance to see if they had company. “I..” He starts, before pausing again. “I did.” 

“Well?” Chanyeol presses his palms against the table impatiently. “What did it say?” 

“The whole process took a week. Normally I can decrypt even the hardest files in two hours. But this… this was entirely new level.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair roughly. “Xiumin was with me when I finally managed to do it. And the first thing he did was take it away from me.” 

Chanyeol can’t be surprised at that. It seemed like typical disclosure behaviour. Top-secret information that should be held in the highest confidentiality. The NIS isn’t a stranger to things of that nature. Especially with new blood like Sehun back then. “Classic data that can’t be disclosed,” Chanyeol replies plainly. “It isn’t that deep.” 

Sehun scowls at him. “You think I’m an idiot? Of course I knew that. That was why I only got glimpse of the files before Xiumin practically threw me off the chair. They didn’t even tell me what it was about, only that it was a ‘snippet of stolen documents’. I didn’t think much of the English words on it then, but now it makes so much sense.” 

The word stuns Chanyeol into shock. The NIS made Sehun decrypt files in English? Did Sehun know how much danger he could’ve been in? He now understands why Agent Xiumin had that sort of reaction. The NIS had an escalating conflict with the MI6 of the United Kingdom by retrieving data of nuclear weaponisation in Scotland back then. It was a risky mission, Chanyeol had heard. Coincidentally, he was escorting Yixing across the globe when the news of this mission broke out to him. It was a job done by all the four of the elite agents; BoA, Xiumin, Irene and, if he must add, retired-agent Donghae. The purpose was mainly to prevent them from evidently starting, well, World War Three. It made the MI6 extremely infuriated with the NIS, but without their nuclear data and collated technological information, severe bloodshed had eased for the time being. Of course, neither party could let this out to the public due to the security reasons concerning how valuable the information was. All the more better for the NIS; the United Kingdoms still had to maintain friendly relations with South Korea. It didn't help, though, when the entire documents were reported to be mysteriously stolen a week later. However, it wasn't EXO's problem. The Seoul agents had a lot of work to do after that. Putting two-to-two together, Chanyeol can guess that they made Sehun decrypt said files that contained British technology — but why is he telling Chanyeol this? 

“And how does this concern Byun Baekhyun?” Chanyeol demands. 

Sehun paces circles around the room, barely facing Chanyeol at all. “Because at the last part of the files, there was a sentence written in Korean, and it was signed off by the letters ‘B.B’. Xiumin pushed me away before I could read the sentence at all, so that was the only thing I saw.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“C’mon, Chanyeol,” Sehun complains. “You really think I’m joking right now? Obviously a few years ago I didn’t think much of it. But you can see now why I’m suspicious.” 

Wincing at an oncoming headache, Chanyeol takes a seat, massaging the sides slowly with his eyelids half shut. “You’re telling me,” he says, “that Byun Baekhyun is working with the MI6?” 

Sehen frowns. “Well it sounds stupid if you say it like that. Even though he’s a rogue agent he’s still a citizen of this country. He doesn’t look like the type to betray his own people.” 

“Sehun,” Chanyeol replies exasperatedly. “The very reason he went rogue is because he betrayed the country. Him siding with them makes more sense than everything else. Especially since we took him from Gloucester.” 

All that Sehun can give him is a silent shrug, choosing not to agree with Chanyeol, irking the latter. 

“Why aren’t you telling this to the others?” He asks. 

“Because, hyung,” Sehun replies meekly. “I don’t exactly think Baekhyun betrayed our country.” 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Sehun. He killed a member of the NIS board.” 

“I’m telling this to you only because you care about justice the most, Chanyeol. You’d do the worst things to be right.” 

Justice. Of course justice is important. How else can the weak defend themselves? Sehun’s words echo back to a day, unlike any other day, where the gritty dirt crunches like the snow. Wounds upon wounds, his desperate cry for help is lost in the howling wind. The cruel winter moon, how she observes but does not act, as Chanyeol’s bated breaths form faint misty clouds that rise towards her. Agony, sweat, coldness and blood — all mixed into one, as the dreaded feeling of fear curls around him slowly, until, he is nothing but afraid. He couldn’t help himself then. He couldn’t defend himself then. And it in turn morphed into a kind of self-hatred that became hard to forget. 

Catching Chanyeol’s stormy expression, Sehun huffs a breath of exasperation. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're crazy. Hell, you killed a homeless guy before just because he was a loose end. And what Baekhyun did could very well be the same thing,” he says, holding Chanyeol’s gaze, and he realises that Sehun might actually be dead serious about something he can’t be more wrong about, as well as possibly defaming the entire organisation they work for. 

“Sehun…” Chanyeol warns, voice lowering into a growl. “Be careful with what you’re saying.” 

“I know, hyung, it seems all too surreal,” Sehun says quietly, ignoring his warning. “I’m not saying anything definitive yet. But what if we aren’t on the right side?” 

xx

Impossible. Chanyeol storms through the hallway, hasty footsteps echoing between the walls. Impossible. He doesn’t know where his anger is directed to. The obvious answer should be Sehun; for suggesting something so preposterous it borderlines unbelievable. The second should probably be Baekhyun, whom Chanyeol has had his anger simmering in ever since they had boarded the drop ship. The whole thing is a mess. A whole big, fat mess that Chanyeol finds tiresome. Because strangely, he isn’t entirely angry at the both of them, but instead that there is a sliver of truth in what they implied. His headache doesn’t leave, lying at the corners of his mind in wait, throbbing its way up to his temples. 

Entering back at Room 365X, Chanyeol finds small relief in the place being a lot neater than before. Well, of course, Kyungsoo is here. As if being a perfectionist in his work isn’t enough. Jongdae sits on one of the chairs cradling his injured arm while Kyungsoo straightens a pile of papers and picks up an askew pencil holder on the floor. 

“How’d everything go with Baekhyun?” Jongdae calls as Chanyeol walks in, patting the chair beside him for Chanyeol to sit. His mind blooms into an image of Baekhyun’s beguiling smile, voice drawling ‘Mister Park’ again and again, dripping with poisoned honey, the back of his ears and neck darkening into a light shade of red.

“Nothing… in particular,” Chanyeol mutters quietly, averting Jongdae’s gaze lest his own eyes expose the nauseating, foreign feeling from the memory. He curses inwardly at Byun Baekhyun, snuffing out the man’s face from his mind. Don’t trust him. Chanyeol tells himself irritably. Baekhyun has been spelling nothing but trouble for EXO, and himself most of all. They just need a strong lead on Kim Jongin and Baekhyun can go screw off somewhere they don’t need to know ever again. 

“You do know that Junmyeon is coming back tomorrow right?” Kyungsoo reminds them the obvious, clearly annoyed. Don’t trust him. “I’m sorry, Chanyeol, but I really don’t see how retaining Baekhyun in our custody is going to work in our favour. You do know that if the NIS finds out, we’ll be charged?” 

He is aware. He is well aware of the consequences. But the NIS will thank him when he stops the inevitable discord that the mafia was stirring up. When he stops any further pain. “Leave the boss to me,” he mutters. “I’ll convince Junmyeon we need Baekhyun.” 

Jongdae laughs, but it is bitter and empty. “Good luck with that. The most stubborn person next to you is him.” 

Kyungsoo slams his palms on the table angrily, the loud sound jolting Chanyeol out of his tired daze. “Park, this is madness. We could get suspended. He’s a damn rogue for crying out loud. We’ll be charged with suspicious activity and get brought in for questioning. Do you have any idea who the lead investigator is now?” 

“I-“ Chanyeol starts, but Kyungsoo cuts him off. 

“Because guess what? Its agent Xiumin. The pioneer who made that newbie Taeyong tear up when they did investigative rounds. Everyone who gets questioning cracks under the pressure. Whatever it is, we can even get our titles stripped off as well.” 

“Yeah.” Jongdae adds, albeit unnecessarily in the heated atmosphere Kyungsoo had created. “Guy’s an . When I have to report back to Seoul I avoid him like a plague.” 

Chanyeol stands up, raising his arms in front of his chest defensively. “Okay, first off, Kyungsoo, I know who the lead investigator is. Second, I’m sure that with the correct proposal protocols NIS will allow a temporary alliance with Byun Baekhyun… of course, the process could take like, what, weeks? But I say we go on with the lead that he will give us first before they send back an official acceptance-“ 

“No. Absolutely not. How can you be so sure they will accept the proposal in the first place? Why not just ask them to charge into our base and arrest him right now?” He replies, sarcasm heavy on his tone. 

Chanyeol eyes Kyungsoo wryly. “Even if they don’t, we’ll get the job done by then. Then they can’t suspend us because we defused the mafia front that’s been bothering them for months. And third, Chen, I happen to be friendly acquaintances with Xiumin, so you better watch what you say in case I… accidentally let something slip.” 

It is amusing to see Jongdae’s eyes widen in panic at his joke. “I… I didn’t exactly say he’s an ,” he sputters quickly. “I meant to say he’s… er…” 

With a loud sigh, Kyungsoo says, “Relax. He’s just messing around with you.” 

“I know,” Jongdae replies indignantly, before wavering. “But with Xiumin, I rather not take the chance.” 

“Back to the issue,” Kyungsoo continues, eyebrows furrowing into a scowl. “I don’t think this little plan of yours will be able to pull through, Chanyeol. Its best if we just listen to Junmyeon and follow the proper procedure of things. We’re in enough trouble as it is.” He exchanges a short glance with Jongdae, who looks back at Chanyeol sheepishly. 

“Sorry, Park,” he adds, an apologetic smile on his face. “Better safe than sorry. I’m sure we’ll still be able to find Jongin without Baekhyun’s help.” 

Now this is precisely why Sehun doesn’t want to tell the rest of the branch about his NIS suspicions, Chanyeol thinks wryly, coming to understand Sehun’s reasons a little bit. The members of EXO are good people, they are. All exceptional in their respective niches too. But they are overly cautious people; a trait that Chanyeol somehow finds himself lacking when he’s, let’s say, running head first into enemy territory, or as of recent events, foolishly flirting with a pretty boy while undercover. Though Chanyeol is known for being meticulous, he's even more infamous in the agency for being undaunting in missions. His actions do get overrun by a surge of ambition to get the job done. Regardless, they aren’t people who would entertain the idea of Baekhyun being somewhat justified in his actions. Perhaps Sehun found them too scared to. Or perhaps Sehun found Chanyeol brash enough to consider the prospect. 

“I’m ready to bet my cards Jongin is still hiding out in England,” Chanyeol says. “And he has been the whole time. The reason the NIS has had such a hard time finding him is that he has a lot of influence there, but that’s just my assumption. The NIS agents in turn are scared of the many ears and eyes Jongin has out on the streets. We need someone like Baekhyun who’s in his inner circle for him to get compromised.” 

Jongdae chews the side of his cheek, pursing his lips. “Even if it is true, all the more reason for us to take extra precautions. We can’t afford to break the rules if the other agents can’t.” 

Chanyeol uses all of his willpower not to glower at Jongdae. Times like these scream for the rules to be broken. “Shouldn’t the ends justify the means?” Chanyeol asks sardonically. 

“Only if the ‘means’ are approved by the NIS, i.e, the people in charge of us,” Kyungsoo replies back with equal bite in his tone. “Careful, Park Chanyeol. One wrong move with Byun Baekhyun and you’ll have the NIS coming for your throat.” 

xx

He can’t sleep. Call it jet lag, but its a flimsy excuse for the thoughts that occupy Chanyeol’s head as he tosses and turns in his designated room. While still underground, the living quarters is a floor above their espionage-related floors; being the only place Sehun can freely wear those ugly crocs. Given, he called it a night early due to his little disagreement in Room 365X with Kyungsoo and the fact that they had to wake up early in the morning for a prompt briefing when Junmyeon arrives back. Still, his conversation with Sehun replays in his mind. What was that kid even thinking? Chanyeol lets out a short mirthless laugh at the thought, although the back of his mind anxiously repeats Sehun’s words again and again. There’s no way the NIS has malicious intentions, he reaffirms himself. It has two purposes, and two purposes alone: protect the country, and maintain world peace. More than that, the NIS provided Chanyeol with a home and a job when he was at his lowest. When he was weak.  

And then there’s Byun Baekhyun. Always creeping into his thoughts when Chanyeol least expects it, irking him to no end. He hasn’t signalled once to go to the restroom. Enough, Chanyeol scolds himself. Sleep. They give you the illusion that good and bad is black and white. Baekhyun’s voice tells him anyway as he shuts his eyes with a hard frown. To ignore the gnawing feeling at your fingertips every time you take another life. The replay of Baekhyun’s voice is lightly smug and cynical as usual, but still, it sounds genuine. Almost sad, even. Behind the many delusive faces he likes to wear, Chanyeol has to admit that Baekhyun does sound transparently empathetic. 

“Damn it,” Chanyeol sighs, opening his eyes in defeat. He gets up, sitting by the bed to change into pants, placing his pistol snugly in its holster. Opening his door, he is not surprised to find the hallways dark and dead quiet. Everyone must be resting in their respective rooms. It is a rare occurrence for everyone to spend the night in the Jeju headquarters. Being the one in charge of comms, Sehun is usually the only one who sleeps here. It must be comforting to have the extra company today. Chanyeol walks quietly with only the flashlight on his phone as his vision, footsteps completely silent as he takes the elevator down to the pantry where he was with Sehun. Turning on the lights to see what’s in the fridge, he’s relieved that there’s still a bowl of tofu stew wrapped in cling wrap from dinner. Chanyeol heats it up under the stove, stomach unconsciously rumbling at the smell of spice. However, it is not for him. He takes the soup all the way down to The Slammer, the automated lights turning on as they sense his feet. 

“Is it morning already?” Baekhyun asks from the cell. At his voice, Chanyeol hesitates from entering for a split second, before mustering up his resolve and walking in front of Baekhyun’s room. The unamused look on Baekhyun’s face tells him that he already knows the answer to his own question. The man is sitting down on his bed, back casually leaning against the wall, eyes piercingly sharp. 

“Oh, hello Mister Park.” He drawls. “What do you have there?” 

“Eat up.” Chanyeol says stoically. He scans his retinas for the door to open, pulling out his pistol as he extends the bowl of stew in front of Baekhyun. 

“Hmph.” The side of Baekhyun’s lips lift slightly. He takes the piping hot bowl. “Ever so cautious, Mister Park. But thank you for this kind gesture.” 

“You didn’t signal to use the toilet.” Chanyeol says, scanning his retinas again for the transparent door to separate them. 

“Missing our little encounter in the Gloucester restroom?” Baekhyun arches an eyebrow, feigning amusement.  

“No…” Chanyeol admits. “I thought you’d at least use the opportunity to try and escape or something.” 

Baekhyun lets out a short chuckle, and this time, its real. “You really do think of everything. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything as stupid as that. You have a techie here; Sehun, right?” 

“What about him?” Chanyeol snarls, immediately defensive. 

“He’s a smart kid, Mister Park. He probably installed alarm sensors and necessary precautions in case of hostilities both inside and out.” 

That is true. “How do you know that?” Chanyeol asks, suspicious. 

“I’m not too bad at knowing my way around some computers and gadgets,” Baekhyun replies mildly. “He reminds me a bit of my time back at the NIS. Its basic knowledge for the techies, you know- oh, this stew is really good, by the way.” 

“You were a techie?” 

Baekhyun gives him a knowing look, aware that Chanyeol is questioning him. Still he replies, “Yes and no. I was pretty good on the technology front, but the NIS felt I’d be better as an outfield agent, like you. Except, they didn’t have a whole branch dedicated to international affairs then. I was on my own most of the time.” 

He talks about the NIS with such nonchalance, without so much as to giving a damn that he murdered a board member. However, Chanyeol swallows both his pride and anger, keeping a cool exterior. “You said Sehun’s a smart kid,” he says slowly, dangerously calm, planting a careful snare to corner Baekyun. “Was that because you knew he decrypted a file of yours that the NIS managed to get?” 

To Chanyeol’s inner disquietness, Baekhyun doesn’t flinch at his revelation. He stares back at Chanyeol squarely in the eyes and placidly says, “yes.” 

“So you’re admitting that you’re with the MI6,” Chanyeol growls quietly, clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. “You supported their nuclear weaponisation.” 

Strangely, at that, does Baekhyun start to look incredulous. “Wait, what?” Furrowing his eyebrows, he looks visibly confused. “That’s what they told you the file was about?” 

“Don’t bother acting dumb. There’s evidence to prove it, Byun Baekhyun. The NIS has all the information about their project.” 

“No, Mister Park, I’m afraid you have it all wrong-“ 

“You stole the documents containing British nuclear technology and are holding it against the NIS as a threat!” Chanyeol accuses, his voice rising. Son of a . Baekhyun’s face holds nothing but an innocent bewilderment, but he knows better now that he’s seen the many different faces of Byun Baekhyun. “You’re threatening the NIS with the prospect of a nuclear war, and it will further disrupt the ties between our country and the United K-“ 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Baekhyun frowns, the hardening in his tone not extinguishing Chanyeol’s outburst, yet it still silences him. “I didn’t steal anything. The NIS twisted the whole thing. I gave them the encrypted file.” 

No. No way. Impossible. His heart palpitates as he tries his hardest not to recoil in shock. Junmyeon had personally read the report sent from Seoul of the news via video call when Chanyeol had arrived in China with Yixing. The valuable British documents had been stolen after Agent Irene made sure they were securely locked in the safe located in the main headquarter’s underground. 

“But everything seemed so authentic,” Chanyeol replies in disbelief. “The nuclear plans, the hostility from MI6. The Scotland mission done by the elitist team to retrieve the files about nuclear weapons. They told all of us it was to defuse a nuclear war. The Seoul headquarters even made an emergency announcement that the files were stolen after that.” 

Quietly sipping the soup, Baekhyun gives him a pointed look. “And who was in charge of ‘retrieving back the stolen goods’?” He asks, using finger quotations. 

“The...The Seoul agents,” Chanyeol says slowly, his head spinning uncontrollably. “Then the whole thing became a Code BLACK.” 

“Ah.” Baekhyun simply says, smiling wryly. “That phrase does make me nostalgic.” 

Chanyeol remembers that there was the only report announced about the situation; him being unaware that Sehun was asked to decrypt a small piece of the files is evident that the process wasn’t officially documented. He doubts that even Junmyeon knows about it as well. The decryption and what happened after was buried under the watchful eyes of the agents in Seoul. No one could ask about it or take the investigation into their own hands — not unlike what the NIS had done to Baekhyun’s termination. 

“How do you feel about the NIS lying right to your face?” Baekhyun says, albeit not characteristically mocking. He sounds as if he almost pities Chanyeol instead. “Let me give you a good hint, Mister Park. The Scotland mission wasn’t for any British files. It was, in fact, a lovely little covert assassination mission instead.” 

A sickening feeling pools at the bottom of Chanyeol’s stomach. A part of him refuses to believe the contradictory claims being made from a stranger he knows for less than twenty four hours. “How do you know that?” He asks, voice wavering. 

But the other part of him already knows Baekhyun’s answer. “Because,” Baekhyun says, the brown in his eyes dimming under the bright lights. “They were sent to assassinate me. But all I left for them was an encryption to play with back at HQ.” 

All these things that Baekhyun is suddenly revealing to him; they only serve to leave Chanyeol asking for more. His disbelief dilutes his anger, unsure of whether he should trust this conman of a rogue agent. It just posed even more questions: how does Baekhyun then relate to Kim Jongin and the MI6? What were the contents of the documents if they weren’t about nuclear weapons? And most importantly... 

“Why are you telling me all this?” Chanyeol resorts to a whisper, hands growing clammy as he stares at Baekhyun’s emotionless face. “Me; a NIS agent... your enemy?” 

Pursing his lips in response, Baekhyun’s eyes flicker to the side as if to briefly ponder on Chanyeol’s words, before landing back onto him. “I don’t think you are, Mister Park.” He pauses, before adding, “in truth, I think you can be a very useful ally.”

“Ally?” Chanyeol retorts. “I have no reason to trust you, and I am not going to be associated with a rouge-“ 

“You have doubt written all over your face, Mister Park. You believe what I’m saying. Or maybe you’re just curious to know the truth,” Baekhyun says, carrying the familiar flirtatious air around him as he takes a slow step towards Chanyeol’s direction. He does so until he’s standing right in front of the glass wall that comes in between the both of them, much to Chanyeol’s relief. Although Baekhyun has to tilt his head a bit to properly look at him in the eyes, Chanyeol strangely finds himself feeling like the smaller man. 

“You’re right, you have no reason to trust me,” he adds, placing a hand against the glass, facing Chanyeol’s chest, not breaking their shared gaze. “But you can’t trust the NIS, either. If you help me, I’ll help you find Kim Jongin.” 

“Nice try. How do I know you’re not lying?” 

Baekhyun smiles innocently. “Tomorrow Junmyeon will make you and your colleague, Chen, me back to Seoul headquarters. Meet me near Banpo Bridge, at the Han River. Midnight.” 

“You’ll be in custody,” Chanyeol replies, incredulous. 

“They will let me out. They can’t arrest me for a reason, you know. It means they can’t detain me either. I have a deal with them.” 

“This can’t be happening,” Chanyeol says, laughing humourlessly. “Are you stupid, Byun Baekhyun? I can easily alert the whole agency of your little scheme.” 

Yet again, he gives that small, knowing smile. “No, you won’t.” 

Chanyeol stops, scrutinising Baekhyun’s ambiguous sentence. What exactly was he getting himself into? This man is a hostile to the organisation, but he says everything with such confidence; every word in big bold letters for Chanyeol to comb through. “You can never be too sure,” he replies hazily, eyelids dipping heavily to look down back at Baekhyun. 

The tone in Baekhyun’s voice is lightly teasing, which doesn’t reach the piercing ice in his eyes. “Thought you’d figure me out by now, Mister Park. I told you I’d know if you were hiding something.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t reply. He simply can’t. Warily backing away from the glass door, he turns his heel and walks out of The Slammer. He doesn’t look back, his thoughts a whirlwind of disorientation. Between being severely lacking sleep and trying desperately to refute what he has heard today, he wonders if he has allowed Byun Baekhyun to get into his head.